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Monday, Monday what a start to a beautiful summer holidays day The kids are on their summer term holidays, so, hip, hip, hooray I get some time off work; just so to look after the little blighters Now It’s time to hide all of Grandpa's cigars; as, all of his lighters And we all get to have some late nights, some as deserved lie-ins O’ how I just love the summer term holidays and how it all begins Weather permitting; & we will all be off to the nature reserve park Even; the daft dog is overexcited; as you can’t half hear him bark Ice creams and crisps; and an extra-large packet of gummy bears Then all of the tantrums; as none of them, will ever learn to share All of us tripping home; to a warmed up by the sun paddling pool Which will remove the mucky marks; and help us all, to keep cool As summer holidays weeks go by and all still ok and looking good A day trip out; with the kids and dog, we are all, off to the woods Giggling and laughing, even an eeew, what the flippin' ‘eck, is that As our Geraldine has just been bitten, by some horrible little gnat Laughter turns to tears as I drag ‘em all home and put ‘em to bed It was not so long they were all fast asleep, and, in the land of Z's Last two weeks of the holidays and, I am starting to feel the strain My little angels have all turned into demons;and, start to be a pain I’m running out of things to entertain ‘em, they’re starting to gripe Gawd Lord; give me strength to make it through just another night The purse strings are getting tighter and the cupboard looking bare Hubbies is off on his way to work and he just does not seem to care I’m now hidden in the out shed, and, having one of Grandpa’s cigars While; I am looking quite sickly, into my mug of thick, Yorkshire char Mam, Mam, the eldest child; is banging frantically outside on the door Annabelle is in the front garden; and at the vicar, she has just swore Bessie is just stood there laughing; hair tangled up, all in such a mess One trainer missing; and, an all-mighty tear up, one side, of her dress The neighbours are passing by nodding like to me; it is all understood The need in me to take the kids and go then to bury 'em in the woods Today is the day and all the kids are ready to go back to their schools Each one of them looking spotless, & each looking no less than jewels Good-bye my little poppets, I love you, I will miss you, kiss, kiss, kiss Then the mad dash home; to peace and quiet & some the flippin' bliss No children were hurt in the making of this poem, really . . . ; ) But I'm afraid some slugs were, thanks to our Jack who got 'em in the neck *o* Indiana Shaw . . . (*-*) No children were hurt in the making of this poem, really ; ) But I'm afraid some slugs were, thanks to our Jack who got 'em in the neck *o* Indiana Shaw . . . (*-*)
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